


The Gang Makes a Hallmark Christmas Movie

by glam0urmuscles



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Gen, M/M, and a real rush job at the end so the editing is MINIMAL, barely shippy sorry folks, the Gang making movies, with all the ridiculous nonsense that entails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 17:46:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glam0urmuscles/pseuds/glam0urmuscles
Summary: The Hallmark Channel posts an open call for Christmas movie scripts and the gang can’t resist.





	The Gang Makes a Hallmark Christmas Movie

**Author's Note:**

> A holiday gift from me to you. Do I have two WIPs I should have been writing instead of this? Sure do! Did I watch one (1) Hallmark Christmas movie and become utterly convinced this was a better use of my limited writing time during December, the craziest month of all? Sure did! 
> 
> This is mainly dialogue, barely more MacDennis than canon, barely Deetress at all, and features some very, uh, broad characterization. I hope that doesn’t dick with your Christmas spirit.

**10:30 AM, On a Tuesday, Philadelphia, PA**

“Hey boners,” Dee calls as she slams into the bar. “Guess who’s going to write _and_ star in the biggest Christmas movie of the season, probably falling in love with her costar and becoming America’s sweetheart along the way?”

Dennis laughs. “Aside from Not You? No idea.” 

Mac and Charlie look up from their beers and snort, but Frank doesn’t react at all, his focus fully absorbed by the solitaire game unfolding on a laptop he has propped at the bar.

“I don’t know, I think Dee could make the biggest Christmas movie of the season,” Charlie offers.

“Thank you, Charlie!”

“I mean, it’s June, there can’t be too many others.”

Dee groans. “Well all of you idiots are wrong. Hallmark just posted an open call for original Christmas screenplays, and they’re making at least three of them into movies that they’ll air. In _December._ ”

“Who’s Hall, Mark?” Mac asks. “Are you sure it’s not Mark Hall? Sometime they put the last name first and it’s confusing.”

 “It’s definitely Hallmark, moron. It’s a whole channel? They specialize in Christmas romances.”

 “Well there’s a topic crying out for your expertise,” Dennis says.

Dee ignores him. “This could be a great opportunity for me. I write a Christmas movie, Hallmark picks it, then I audition for the lead role and blow everyone away because I’m off-book already.” She smirks and points at herself. “You know, because I wrote the damn thing. Also because I look exactly like the protagonist because she’ll be based on me.”

“But you’ve never written a movie before. Mac and me wrote that movie once, and I also wrote a play which is a little bit like a movie, and Dennis wrote his sex book that he made into a movie.”

“ _Erotic memoirs_ ,” Dennis mutters.

“What I mean is, odds are we would do a better job than you.”

Dee squints as she considers this. “That’s not a bad idea, Charlie. If you also wrote screenplays that would increase our chances of being in the top three.”

Dennis snorts. “That’s never gonna happen.”

Dee shrugs and dismisses the idea as quickly as it came to her. “Fine, who needs you? But I do need to borrow the laptop to write my script.”

“No way, I have it next,” Mac whines. “Frank, you promised!” Frank ignores them both.

“Absolutely not!” both Dee and Dennis object.

“Mac will destroy it before I get a turn. He can have it when I’m finished.”

“No, Mac can’t have it at all,” Dennis corrects her. “We need a laptop for the bar, and we can’t afford a new one right now. How many computers have you destroyed this year, Mac?”

“I’m not going to use it for porn!” Mac whines some more. “I just need it!”

“Yeah you are, buddy. Let it go.” Charlie pats Mac on the shoulder consolingly. Mac turns and sulks into his beer.

“How about this,” Frank says as he finishes up his solitaire game, the animated cards slowly fanning across the laptop screen to indicate a winning hand. “How about Deandra gets the laptop for a week, and you bozos give me all your tips and I’ll get you your own Chromebooks. No fighting, ‘cause everyone has one, and no viruses, ‘cause everything lives in the _cloud_.” He wiggles his fingers in the air to demonstrate. “I got a guy who can get em off the back of a truck for cheap.” 

“How cheap are we talking?” Charlie asks. “Because we don’t make much tips.”

Frank shrugs. “Fifty bucks, maybe?”

“I don’t particularly want a stolen garbage laptop without any storage or memory, but if it will stop Mac from killing all of our computers I’m for it,” Dennis says.

“Same,” Dee agrees. “Now hand that over, Frank. The submission deadline is Sunday at midnight.”

***

 

Neither Dennis or Mac remembers to rent a movie for movie night, so they end up flipping through the channels. Charlie sits on the couch between them, both a literal and metaphorical buffer.

It’s not that things have been weird between them exactly, it’s just that it’s easier to have Charlie there. For months, Dennis had been acting wary of Mac, as though he were always expecting him to disobey his demands not to touch him anymore. As though Mac would ever disobey Dennis or intentionally hurt him. Dennis’s distrust left him so hypervigilant and on edge that anything unexpected — a dropped toothbrush, the door buzzer, a siren outside — made him jump out of his skin. This led to Mac watching him like a hawk, which led to Dennis freaking out because he could never escape judgemental eyes, even in his own home, which led to Mac worrying more, which led to him calling in reinforcements, which led to Dennis and the reinforcement bonding over their dislike of human contact initiated by others, which led to Dennis chilling out a little, which led to Charlie being around a lot more.

Mac still worried though. 

Dennis stops flipping when they came across a beautiful redhead dragging a suitcase through a snow-covered town square, a Christmas tree sparking at its center. “Hey, this is that Hallmark Channel Dee was talking about.”

They watch as the redhead—Holly, as it turns out—checks into a B&B in the small town she hadn’t returned to since high school graduation; as she interviews some locals about the illegal reindeer smuggling ring she’s in town to investigate; and as she wanders into a nearby bakery to buy a muffin.

“Can we change the channel, man?” Charlie asks. “This is boring as shit.”

The baker who is pulling loaves of bread out of the oven as Holly walks into his bakery ends up being her childhood best friend, Todd. His smile is as warm as his freshly baked bread, and his arms flex beautifully as he hefts loaf after loaf from the oven. Holly can’t take her eyes off him. Neither can Mac.

“No, let’s give this a chance,” Mac says.

Eventually even Charlie gets into it as the plot gets wilder and wilder. Todd goes with Holly and their other friend Beth to visit the farm the town’s reindeer keep disappearing from. A kindly old farmer shows them his empty reindeer barn, along with the mistletoe and evergreen trees he cultivates using the waters of a sparkling stream that runs down from the north. Then they find a man lurking at the edge of the property and proceed to chase him by snowmobile. They don’t catch him, but they discover he works for a local developer who is trying to scare the farmer off his land so he can buy it for a song. He claims the waters of the stream are magical and enchant everything they feed, and he wants to bottle it and sell it.

The string of corruption ends up leading all the way back to the mayor of the town. Holly gets her big newspaper scoop and the missing reindeer are returned home. She prepares to leave town, but not before sharing a nearly chemistry-free smooch with Todd under the mistletoe in his bakery. She leaves, and Todd despairs.

“...Don’t you get it Todd? That was the enchanted mistletoe the old man on the reindeer farm told us about! Holly couldn’t have kissed you if she weren’t your true love. You have to go to the airport right away and stop her from going back to Albuquerque.”

The muscled hunk runs, and he does stop her. They kiss chastely again as bells chime and snow falls. The silhouette of a sleigh pulled by a full team of reindeer can be seen flying overhead.

It’s no _Thunder Gun_ , but it is the right degree of mindlessly entertaining. An ideal movie night pick. Charlie, Mac, and Dennis watch the next film.

“...But Tommy is my top elf! He would never betray us by selling our new doll design to a company like H.U.M.B.U.G. Inc.!”

And the next.

“...No, I swear, he wasn’t made of gingerbread, he was a real man! And it was a real town! All of it was real, and it was always Christmas!”

And the next.

“...That Silicon Valley jerk thinks he can come in here and “disrupt” Christmas? We’ve been making and delivering toys this way for generations! His silly little algorithm will never beat the magic of artisanal craftsmanship and free overnight delivery.” 

Seven hours later, Charlie drags his eyes away from the TV. “Guys, we _have_ to make Dee put us in her movie.” Mac and Dennis look up, eyes glazed, and nod.

*** 

The next morning they turn the back office at Paddy’s into their base of operations. Charlie has donned his half-glasses and a beret to show he’s in serious artist mode, and Mac and Dennis stand on either side of the easel, taking turns writing ideas on a giant pad. So far they have _CHRISTmas_ in Mac’s handwriting, _romances for_ ** _men_** in Dennis’s, and a few squiggly sketches of reindeer, penguins, polar bears, and other Christmas-adjacent animals that were obviously drawn by Charlie.

“This would be a lot easier if we had the laptop,” Mac laments.

“We don’t need a computer,” Dennis says. “We can do this movie entirely on our phones. Script, filming, editing, submissions, you name it. This is a modern, tech-savvy operation.”

“I thought this was a script contest. Why are we filming too?” Charlie asks.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Dennis counters. “If we submit a completed movie Hallmark won’t have to spend any money to film it themselves. That gives us a competitive advantage. It’s basic economics.”

“Makes sense,” Mac says, convinced.

“Plus then we get to be in it,” Dennis adds.

Charlie nods enthusiastically before suddenly turning crestfallen. “I don’t know if I can play a convincing Christmas mouse though.”

“Let’s scrap the animal angle,” Dennis suggests. “Human characters only.”

“And divine beings,” Mac says. “I still think the birth of our lord and savior Jesus Christ should play a significant role.”

“No, no religion Mac, because then you lose the coasts. Our movie needs to appeal to moms in Middle America _and_ to sad, lonely spinsters in the big cities. But,” Dennis uncaps his marker with a pop, “you make a good point about the divine beings. We should focus on the season’s main _secular_ divine being.” He writes two words on the chart.

Charlie squints in confusion at the easel. “Satan’s class? So like a school for devils? That could be kinda cool.”

“Try again, Charlie,” Mac suggests, his tone gentle despite Charlie’s heretical views of what might make for a good Christmas movie.

Charlie squints some more. “Sss-ant-a Class. Sss-anta. Santa Claus! Oh no way, dude!” He leaps up from the desk, knocking over the chair. “Absolutely not. He’s a mom-stealing bastard!”

“Shhhh,” Dennis walks towards Charlie, palms forward and arms open and placating. “Your mom is safe, Charlie. No one wants to fuck your mom.” Charlie watches him approach warily, but Dennis stops short of touching him.

“Except Frank,” Mac says.

Dennis turns to glare at him. “Well Frank won’t be playing Santa. No, our movie will take place when Santa is still young and handsome. He flies around the world delivering presents, sure, but in his spare time he also flies around looking for…” He pauses for emphasis, looking at Charlie and Mac for their approval, “...his Mrs. Claus. A young, age-appropriate Mrs. Claus, mind you, not an old, perverted one.”

“That’s a great idea, man,” Mac enthuses. “Hot, young beefcake Santa!”

Dennis grins at him then turns back to Charlie. “What do you say, buddy?”

“You promise Santa won’t fuck my mom?”

“I promise, bud.”

“OK. But…” he trails off, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Who are we gonna get to play the lady Santa does fuck?”

***

The coffee mug lands at Dee’s elbow with a clatter, just a tiny bit splashing over the rim and onto her shirt.

“I hope that’s all,” the Waitress says. “You’ve been here my entire shift, and frankly your heart should have stopped by now.”

“I can handle it,” Dee assures her, grabbing the coffee and pouring it down her throat in a single gulp. “Could I get a refill when you get a chance?”

The Waitress rolls her eyes and snatches back the mug. “If you die you deserve it.”

“Yup,” Dee agrees amicably, not looking up from the laptop screen as the Waitress walks away.

The bell attached to the front door of the coffee shop chimes.

“Hey there sis!” Dee ignores Dennis, who plops down in the chair opposite her, but Dennis doesn’t wait for any kind of acknowledgement. “We’ve been thinking about the Christmas movie thing, and you were right that it really is an amazing opportunity for us. We begin shooting tomorrow.”

Dee fishes around in her purse for headphones and plugs them into the computer. She’s about to put them on, blocking Dennis out, when the Waitress returns with another mug.

“Coffee number...I’ve literally lost count.” She drops the coffee on Dee’s table.

“Does that mean it’s free?” Dee asks, taking a more measured sip than before.

“Nice!” Dennis says. “I’ll have one too.”

“Oh hello, asshole,” the Waitress greets him. “Absolutely not. I’m not serving you even if you pay double.”

Dee sees her opening and smirks. “Waitress, this man is bothering me. Can you make him leave the cafe?”

“If I could make people leave I would have kicked you out hours ago, before your caffeine intake became a legal liability.”

“But I’m a paying customer, and he’s not even buying anything.”

The Waitress pauses to consider this, her hands on her hips. “An excellent point, Dee. Dennis, get out.”

“Now hold on a minute!” Dennis raises his hands in supplication. “I’m here to make a business proposition to my sister.”

“Then hurry it up. You’re interrupting my flow,” Dee says.

“We need a leading lady,” confesses Dennis.

“So write the part for a blonde in her thirties and give me the script before auditions. Done. Wasn’t that the whole point of this in the first place? Doubling our chances?”

“You’re a blonde in your forties, and no. We need a leading lady who’s free to film tomorrow.”

“I’m free to film tomorrow,” the Waitress volunteers. “Unless the leading man is Charlie. Or Mac. Or Frank.”

Dennis turns to her, his lip curling in disbelief. “Of course it’s not any of them. _I’m_ the leading man, but no one was inviting you. You’ll lower the tone of the entire film.”

“And having your twin sister as your leading lady won’t?”

“She makes a good point,” Dee says. “The McPoyles aren’t exactly the Hallmark Channel’s target demographic. Besides, why are you filming at all? Don’t you dicknips realize it’s a script contest?”

Dennis waves away her concern. “What are the Hallmark guys going to pick? A movie they have to pay to make, or a movie that’s already made? It’s basic economics.”

Dee takes a long, thoughtful sip of her coffee. “OK, but the deadline’s Sunday. You’ll never finish in time.”

“I think we have a solid idea percolating. Romantic. Seasonal. Unexpected. Mac and Charlie are back at Paddy’s mapping it out now.”

“Oh yeah?” Dee scoffs. “Like any of you three losers understand romance or what women want. Am I right?” She holds her hand up to the Waitress for a high five, but the other woman is a few tables away, taking a customer’s order.

Dennis scoffs right back. “So your movie’s going well? The romance is simmering, the Christmas lights are twinkling, the magic of the season is all around?”

“Ugh, OK, fine,” Dee admits. “The romance part is fine; _I_ know what women want. It’s the Christmas part I can’t get. It’s not like we ever really celebrated.”

Dennis nods. “You don’t understand Christmas.”

“I just don’t understand it!”

“I think we can help each other out. Walk me through what you’ve got.” Dennis leans forward and steeples his fingers.

Dee puts down her coffee. “OK I’ll bite. So there’s a businessman, and he’s travelling for work.”

“Uh huh.”

“He needs somewhere to get work done on the road, so he stops in this little coffee shop. I guess it’s decorated for Christmas.”

“Uh huh.”

“And the barista is a beautiful small town girl and he develops a crush immediately, so he goes back to the coffee shop to work all week. Eventually he’s going to decide to stay in the small town for her and give up on business, but so far all I have is a lot of witty rapport between the two of them.”

“Interesting.”

Unsure whether to take this as an affirmation or a judgement, Dee raises an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re simply documenting your environment. Coffee shop. Acceptable looking woman. Passable conversation. Am I hearing right?”

“That’s not what’s happening!” Dee objects. “They have excellent chemistry, and she likes him just as much as he likes her. She…”

“Keeps bringing him coffee long after she should have cut him off?” Dee blushes and Dennis chuckles. “You need to add some creative pizzaz. Now what if the man visiting the coffee shop is Santa Claus? Not a disgusting, elderly Santa Claus, but a young, virile Santa Claus in the prime of life, trying to woo the future Mrs. Claus.”

“That’s your idea?”

“Brilliant isn’t it? Let’s join forces. With our young Santa plotline and your coffee shop material, I think this movie is really going somewhere.”

“Straight to cable TV.”

“Straight to cable, baby,” Dennis agrees.

***

Mac passes out a sheaf of papers to Frank, Charlie, Dee, Dennis, the Waitress, and Artemis, who are all seated around a pair of folding tables arranged in the center of Paddy's.

“Thank you for coming to the first table reading for our Hallmark Original Movie, Title to Come, aka _Erotic Santa_ , aka _Santa’s Sexual Walkabout,_ aka _Naughty or Nice_ , aka _XxXanta_ , aka _The Santa Who Fucks_ ,” he announces officiously. “You will see the parts you have been cast in highlighted in your scripts. Please take a moment to familiarize yourselves with your roles, then we’ll begin.”

“This isn’t even a script. It’s three pages,” Frank complains.

“It’s mostly improv,” Charlie tells him. “Cause we’re all so funny and good at jokes and stuff. Also we didn’t have time.”

“I trained at Second City,” Artemis confides. “I am going to blow all of you morons out of the water.”

Dennis raises his hand. “Uh, Mac? I thought we were clear that, as the most erotic man in the gang, I would be playing Santa Claus.”

“No way dude. Santa is supposed to be a beefcake, right? Like under his furry red suit you think maybe he’s fat, but then he pops his shirt off and you find out it’s just muscle mass.” He goes to demonstrate, but Dee stands up from the table and lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“I’m with Mac here,” Dee says to the group. “Not that I want to see his gross muscles or touch him with any part of my body,” she removes her hand from his arm, “but I also don’t want to kiss my brother.”

“That won’t be a problem,” says the Waitress, holding up her highlighted script, “because I’ll be the one kissing him.”

Dennis groans and Dee turns to Mac with a murderous look on her face. “What the hell, Mac? This is supposed to be my big opportunity.”

“But she’s really a coffee stop waitress, so it’s more realistic!”

“As realistic as a gay man who hates women playing, and I quote, ‘The Santa Who Fucks’?” Dennis asks.

“Oh so first you won’t let me put a nativity play in the movie even though they had one in _Love Actually,_ and now Santa can’t be gay? Santa Claus can’t have sex with other men? Why are you being so bigoted Dennis?”

“Santa was never going to…” Dennis inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose, redirecting himself. “Look Mac, do you want to appeal to Middle America or not? A Christmas movie with a gay Santa and a subplot about the birth of Jesus would have an audience of one.”

“Make the art you want to see in the world, dude!”

“It’s not art, it’s cable TV!”

“It is too art! It’s art if you put your heart into it and it speaks to people!”

“Get ahold of yourselves!” Artemis shouts, standing and slapping her palms flat against the table. “As the only members of this production with any directorial experience, Charlie and I…”

“I’ve directed! I directed Dennis’s film about getting r…”

“DEE!” Dennis interrupts, indignant.

“As the only members of this production with both directorial experience and no investment in which of you titsqueaks play the leading roles,” Artemis corrects, “Charlie and I will confer in the back office and determine the final cast list. We will also come up with a realistic production schedule to get us to a completed film by Sunday. It’s going to involve a lot of hard work. And blood. And sweat. And possibly some tears. Almost definitely some tears. So clear your schedules.”

Frank shrugs. “Didn’t have much planned.” The rest of the gang nod their agreement while the Waitress looks on in disbelief.

“I have a _job,_ ” she informs Artemis.  

“Sure do, sweetheart,” Artemis smirks. “I’ll let you know in a jiff what it is. Charlie?”

Charlie hops out of his seat and follows her into the office.

***

 

A short few hours and many beers later, they gather around the table again. 

“Dennis will be playing Santa Claus, aka Nick, and Frank and Charlie will be his elves,” Artemis announces, reading off a list. “Dee will be playing the mayor of the small town where Santa’s sleigh crash lands, and Mac will be her head of the City Council, or the town curmudgeon, or a fiery evangelical preacher, as deemed most appropriate by the unfolding plot.”

“I will be someone who is very angry,” Mac explains.

“Last but not least our champion negotiator, who threatened to walk unless she was given the role, leading to a surprising amount of anguish in the Reynolds family…” Dee blushes, Dennis scowls, and the Waitress smirks. “...will be playing the proprietress of the local cafe and the future Mrs. Claus. We also have a new, Hallmark-friendly working title: _Santa’s New Year’s Resolution_. Charlie?” She gestures for Charlie, who is once again wearing his Serious Artist beret, to take over.

“The film opens with Santa Claus celebrating New Year’s Eve at the North Pole’s hottest Hot Cocoa Bar with his elf friends. They’re toasting, getting sticky little marshmallow mustaches, talking about their lives. At midnight, Santa starts to get thoughtful. He’s always been a bachelor, spending all of his time with these elf friends, doing Christmas schemes and such. But he starts to think it’s time for a change. Maybe he realizes it’s a little pervy how much time he spends around kids without having any of his own. Maybe he realizes he’s 40 and he’s going to stop being hot, young Santa and turn into old, gross Santa really soon. Maybe he’s just sick of his elf friends and the North Pole and he needs a change. I don’t know. Dennis, you find your own motivation man.”

Dennis sucks at his beer, a sour expression on his face. Mac raises his hand. 

“But Charlie, if it’s after Christmas how are we going to have a nativity play in the background?”

“We’re not.” He continues on. “This is where we get into the romance plotline. Santa flies all around the world in search of his perfect woman. Dennis, we’ll show you on dates in exotic locales. Paris. London. Tokyo. Florida. Ohio. Rome. Space. But none of these ladies are what Santa is looking for. None of them are wholesome and all-American enough. None of them love Christmas enough.”

Frank raises his hand. “Who the hell is going to play these ladies? We’ve only got two broads. Three if you count Dee.”

Artemis winks. “So glad you asked, Frank. You’re familiar with my trunk full of wigs and other disguises?” 

“Sure am!”

“Well, I’m looking forward to demonstrating my range and,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “flexibility.”

“Gross. Can we get to the point?” Dennis asks.

“Well we kept most of the original idea you came up with, man,” Charlie continues. Santa’s sleigh crashes and his elves can’t find him, so he’s stuck trying to live a normal life in this small town. He gets a part-time job at a local gas station and falls in love with a coffee shop waitress. The B-plot is Frank and I going around the world visiting all the ladies you went on dates with and trying to track you down.”

“Sloppy seconds!” Frank cheers.

Dee raises her hand next. “And what the hell are me and Mac supposed to do?”

*** 

“All right, my little thespians,” Artemis coos, “I hope you came ready to improvise because the plan for this scene is _extremely_ loose.”  

“Also we need to make it speedy, because I have tables,” the Waitress adds.

Charlie trains the phone that’s functioning as their camera on Dee, Mac, Dennis, and the Waitress, who stand by the counter of the relatively busy coffee shop. Dennis is dressed as Santa Claus and Dee wears a suit, while the others are dressed in their own clothes. 

“I guess you decided your character isn’t an elected official then,” Dee says to Mac.

“What do you mean?” Mac asks, looking down at his muscle tee and work pants.

“The correct response in improv is Yes, And,” Artemis corrects.

“Yes, And I don’t know what you mean, Dee,” Mac says.

Dee rolls her eyes. “Nevermind, boner. Let’s get out of the shot.” She and Mac step behind the camera.

“Take 1!” Charlie yells, startling a few patrons. Dennis and the Waitress take their places.

“Excuse me?” Dennis asks, approaching the counter. “Do you have a phone I can borrow? My vehicle broke down and I need to call my friends, but mine isn’t getting a signal.”

The Waitress turns around behind the counter. Charlie chimes some bells near the phone to soundtrack the moment where she meets Dennis’s eyes, which is meant to symbolize their instant chemistry. Unfortunately that’s the only indicator of their chemistry, because while the Waitress smiles warmly and leans forward across the counter, Dennis appears distracted bordering on disoriented. His eyes flit around the coffee shop, observing the real patrons who are also observing him and the rest of the production unfolding at the counter. A mug clatters against a table somewhere and he jumps a little. 

“Wow, I,” he briefly closes his eyes and swallows, “I didn’t realize you would be so busy on a Tuesday” he says, trying to Yes, And his own reaction.

The Waitress continues to smile flirtatiously. “We’re busy every day. People love our gingerbread lattes, our peppermint mochas, our eggnog, and all of our Christmas-themed treats, which we serve year-round. You look like a man who appreciates Christmas.”

“Ha ha, yes. Yes, and.” Dennis laughs nervously, plucking at the fur cuffs on his sleeves. “I mean, ho ho ho.”

It’s extremely painful to watch, and Charlie is just about to yell “Cut!” when Mac pushes his way into the shot. Dee darts in quickly behind him.

“Not so fast!” Mac cries, nonsensically. The Waitress tenses, but Dennis’s shoulders relax fractionally. “As head of the neighborhood watch, I see everything, and I noticed you still have your Christmas tree up outside. That’s going to be a $100 fine, because Christmas is _over_.” He slashes a hand through the air.

“That’s right,” Dee adds, “and the fine is real, because it doesn’t come from the neighborhood watch, but from me, the mayor of this town. We will tolerate Christmas while it’s happening, but the second it’s over it’s over. You’re already on thin ice with your peppermint mochas, Mandy.” Everyone’s eyes widen at Dee’s choice of name, except for the Waitress since the name means nothing to her. Dennis tenses again. “You’re lucky they’re so delicious.”

“Well Madame Mayor,” the Waitress says, “you would know since you order one every day.” 

Dee raises an eyebrow. “Be that as it may, I want the tree gone by tomorrow. Capisce?”

“But we will leave up the nativity in front of the church,” Mac says, “because Jesus is for _every_ season.” Dennis rolls his eyes and exhales.

“Right, sure,” Dee says, “But the point is that we can’t stand Christmas in this town and we’re so glad for it to be over, so have your tree down by tomorrow or face the consequences. And you,” she adds, pointing at Dennis, “don’t let me see that ridiculous costume again.” She and Mac walk out of the shot.

“I can’t believe that bird mayor insulted my culture like that,” Dennis complains, relaxed again and leaning on the counter. “This was my great-grandfather’s suit.”

“Mmmm,” the Waitress nods sympathetically. “In a way, I like to think Christmas is my culture too. Let me get you that phone.”

“Yes, And can I get a hot chocolate while I wait?”

“Cut!” Artemis calls. “That’s a wrap. Try to make the next take a little sexier, Dennis.”

“What the hell, Dee?” Dennis yells the second the camera stops rolling.

“Yeah, Dee,” Mac agrees. “The Waitress is bad enough as it is, you didn’t have to give her that name.”

“I thought I was helping!” says Dee. “That was the least believable meet cute I’ve ever seen. Your chemistry was nonexistent, so I thought it might help if she had the same name as a woman you’ve slept with, and Maureen obviously isn’t a Christmas movie name.”

“ _The Waitress_ is a woman I’ve slept with. The problem wasn’t that I wasn’t able to imagine sleeping with her.”

“Then what _was_ the problem?”

“Yeah, you’re acting weird dude,” Mac adds.

“Nothing! It’s just too loud in here! Can’t we shoot some scenes at the bar first?”

“Yes, please,” the Waitress interrupts. “This is taking up too much of my time. You need to get out of here during business hours. ”

***

They head back to Paddy’s for their next scenes, but Dennis’s chemistry with Artemis is even more nonexistent.

They’re sitting at a bistro table staged in front of a green screen in the middle of the bar, filming what will be made to look like a date in Moscow. Dennis is dressed in his Santa suit. Artemis wears a white fur hat and jacket, her lips painted a bright, Russian red.

“I…I make…toys?” Dennis stutters out, looking somewhere to the side of her actual face.

“Cut, cut!” Artemis calls, breaking character and shifting into Director mode. “Dennis, I know that as an immortal being Santa at 40 is probably the equivalent of an ordinary human at 13, but no one wants to watch a romance movie about an awkward 13 year old boy. I realize I may be the only woman in Philadelphia you _haven’t_ boned, but can you at least pretend to be interested? It’s called acting.” 

“Yeah man,” Mac puts in from the sidelines, where he’s sitting at the bar and playing with his phone. “Pretending’s not as hard as you’re making it look.”

“Exactly,” Dee agrees. “Besides, Artemis is objectively hot so I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Thank you, Deandra,” says Artemis.

Dennis doesn’t even bother to protest, simply downing the entire glass of red wine set at his place. “Fine. Let’s try again.”

“Continuity refill!” Charlie cries, rushing in with a bottle to top up Dennis’s glass.

“Thanks man.” Relieved, Dennis downs that glass too. Charlie tops him up again.

“OK, take four!” Artemis calls, and Charlie hustles over to the camera setup, where his phone is now set on a tripod.

“So, handsome,” she drawls in a Russian accent. “Vat do you do for a living?”

“I make toys!” Dennis exclaims, much too brightly, his eyes completely open and unblinking, his eye contact much too direct.

Artemis groans. “Cut!” she calls again. “This isn’t working.”

“Goddamnit, that was better!” Dennis explodes. “That was fine! What the hell do you want?”

The outburst sends Mac to his feet, and in an instant his phone is away and he’s standing by the table, still at a careful distance from Dennis.

“Maybe just one more take?” he suggests. “What do you think Artemis? I think Dennis is just stressed by the pressure of being Santa.”

“Shut up, Mac,” Dennis snaps. “You’re jealous because I’m beefcake Santa and you’re just some white trash townie who’s mad about Christmas.”

“Whoa dude,” Mac puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m not jealous at all. Watching your scene with the Waitress almost made me throw up. I don’t think I could pretend or act or whatever like you’re doing if it involved her. No offense, Charlie,” he adds.

“What?” Charlie asks from where he’s adjusting the phone on the tripod.

“Men are idiots,” Dee declares.

“We need these shots, so let’s improvise,” Artemis says. “Dennis, do you think you’ll be more comfortable if you’re alone?”

Unsure and taken aback, Dennis shrugs. “As opposed to what? Having 17 dates with you? Probably.” 

“But how will that work?” Mac asks. He’s drifted slightly behind Dennis’s chair. In another world, with another Dennis, it’s clear he would have already laid a supportive hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“We’ll shoot each side of the table separately. Charlie, can you rig up another green screen in front of my chair?”

Charlie salutes. “You’ve got it, boss.” He ducks into the back office to grab supplies.

As Charlie begins to construct another barrier from green fabric, Frank enters the bar in full elf regalia, carrying a heavy sack. 

“Your call time isn’t until 3,” Dee tells him. If you’re going to be here, keep out of the way.” 

“Just need a place to store my magical presents,” says Frank, dragging the sack towards the office.

Artemis surveys the screen Charlie erected. “OK Dennis, I’ll read my lines offscreen to prompt you, and after we have your parts recorded we’ll film my half of the dates with the green screen in front of your chair. Are you ready?” 

“Of course I’m ready,” he snaps, situating himself.

“Alright. Take five!” she calls. Charlie takes his place at the camera. “So, handsome, vat do you do for a living?”

Dennis looks straight ahead at nothing. “I make toys,” he says. It’s better than the other takes, but still completely wooden.

Artemis shakes her head. “No. Cut!”

“Goddamnit!” Dennis yells, smacking his wine glass off the table. It shatters on the floor, sending red wine splattering in a wide arc over both Mac’s pant legs and the bottom of the newly erected screen.

“Calm down, man,” Mac hisses, stepping into the shot. “What’s your problem? You’re usually so good at faking it with women.”

“I have never faked it in my life!” Dennis yells, standing and stepping into Mac’s space.

“Sure man, every time you told a woman about your volunteer work at the nursing home, or your prized collection of cookbooks, or the time you gave up sex for a year to get more aligned with your spirituality, that was totally genuine. Or have you forgotten I know how fake you are because I’ve watched all of your sex tapes?”

“I haven't forgotten!” Dennis splutters. “How could I forget?”

“Breathe, dude,” Mac whispers, his hands twitching with the desire to calm the other man. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” Dennis closes his eyes and takes a deep gulp of air.

“As co-director can I make a suggestion?” Charlie interrupts. “Dennis, sit down.” He does so with a scowl. “Dee, get another wine glass.” She does, and Charlie fills it again. “Now Mac, would you mind sitting in Artemis’s seat, behind the screen?” Mac obeys and plops down in the seat, hidden from view.

“Let’s try this with Artemis reading the lines off screen, but Mac sitting there so Dennis has somebody to look at and react to.”

“Are you ok with that, Dennis?” Mac asks, his droopy brown eyes warm. Dennis nods stiffly. Mac smiles.

Artemis sighs. “Take six. So, handsome, vat do you do for a living?” Mac mouths the line along with her, which makes Dennis smile slightly.

“I make toys,” he says. “It’s not a year-round gig, so in my spare time I like to travel the world and meet beautiful creatures like yourself.”

Artemis’s jaw drops. “Cut! That’s a wrap on Russia. Dennis, let’s run New York, Iceland, and Australia next. It will be more efficient if we finish up your half of the scenes in one go.”

“OK,” he agrees.

“Take 1, New York!” Artemis calls.

“Hey beautiful, you should put that phone away and live in the moment,” says Dennis, maintaining perfect eye contact.

“Cut! That’s a wrap on New York,” says Artemis. “Next is Iceland, which is just a reaction shot. I’m dressed as Bjork, and you’re horrified. We probably should have started with this, actually.”

Dennis’s expression of disgust is so exaggerated that Mac bursts out laughing, but they get the shot anyway. They work their way through Australia, Florida, London, and California without any further outbursts and only one incident, which is just Frank dragging his heavy Santa sack through the shot while talking loudly on the phone to someone about a drop-off point.

“Great job, dude,” Mac says quietly.

Dennis smiles slightly, calm at last.

*** 

Over the next two days the gang shoots their outdoor scenes, which mostly consist of vignettes from Santa’s small town life. Santa finds a temporary place to stay, he gets a job at a local gas station, and he does some pushups in the park because it’s the only Hallmark-friendly scenario they can think of to let Dennis get shirtless.

Of course the rest of Santa’s small town life centers around his love interest, now unfortunately named Mandy. Dennis suggests a friends-to-lovers scenario “for realism,” and the rest of the gang agrees in the hopes that it will allow some chemistry to develop between Dennis and the Waitress during filming. Mandy helps him find the gas station gig; Mandy helps him move into his small apartment; Mandy is Santa’s only friend in town so they go to dinner together a lot. After some trial and error, they settle on shooting these dinners the same way they shot the dates with Artemis. This turns out to be good for both faking chemistry and for the Waitress’s work schedule.

That goes well enough, but they save Santa’s climactic kiss scene for early Sunday morning so they can use the coffee shop before the Waitress’s boss comes in.

After nearly a year of searching, Santa’s elves have finally tracked him down in his small town. Charlie and Frank reveal Nick’s real identity to Mandy, who as a Hallmark heroine finds this believable and even enticing, rather than a sign of psychosis.

“Nick, is it true?” the Waitress asks. “Are you really him? _The_ Santa Claus?”

“She sucks but at least she tries,” Dee whispers off-camera.

“Oh I think this _is_ Dennis trying,” Artemis whispers back.

“It’s all true!” Dennis declares. “I set off on a journey to find the love of my life, and now I realize that’s you, Mandy. Won’t you come back to North Da, I mean North Ph, I mean the North Pole with me?”

“She clearly should not,” Dee mutters. “Can you imagine being stuck alone in the Arctic Circle with that disaster?”

“Yeah this is painful,” Mac agrees. “I want to shout ‘Don’t do it!’ but this isn’t a play so I don’t think heckling is allowed.”

“Go ahead,” Artemis tells him, kindly not mentioning that heckling isn’t welcomed at plays either. “We’ll edit it out.”

“Girl, don’t do it!” Mac calls. Both Dennis and the Waitress look up and glare at him. Artemis rolls her wrist to show them they’re still shooting.

Regaining her composure, the Waitress looks at Dennis with as much adoration as she can manage. It isn’t much, but at least she doesn’t look vaguely like she’s about to vomit everywhere, like he does. “Yes, of course I will!”

“Look, mistletoe!” Charlie the elf shouts, pointing towards the ceiling. It’s bare of mistletoe, but they plan to cut a picture of some in later.

With deep breaths, Dennis and the Waitress pucker their lips and begin to lean closer. Wordlessly, Mac and Dee reach out and grip each others wrists.

Just before the moment of impact, the coffee shop door slams open and a burly Italian man bursts inside.

“Frank Reynolds! Give me my money!”

Dennis and the Waitress spring apart gratefully. Dee and Mac exhale.

“Can’t you see I’m busy here, Paulie?” Frank says, lifting his elf sack to demonstrate. “I’ll get it for you by tonight.”

“What the hell is going on, Frank?” Artemis asks. “Your friend is interrupting our shoot.”

The man steps forward threateningly. Dennis tries to shrink behind the Waitress, who isn’t having it. “You’ll get me my money by tonight?” Paulie asks. “That’s what youse said yesterday. Pay up now or face the consequences.”

“Gimme a break, man. I only have one more swap left. Tonight, I promise.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t got no cash?”

“Not a cent.”

Paulie hmms thoughtfully, glancing around at the rest of the assembled gang. Mac is standing with his neck out, trying to look tough. Dee is studiously avoiding eye contact. Dennis has retreated behind the counter. “Alright, everybody empty your wallets.”

“Wallets?” asks Charlie. “Who does this guy think we are, Frank? Millionaires?”

Frank sighs and reaches around to grab something from his back pocket.

“Jesus Christ, Frank!” the Waitress yells, joining Dennis behind the counter as Frank whips out a gun.

No one else is terribly surprised by this turn of events, including Paulie, who at twice Frank’s height and girth easily knocks the gun aside. It skitters under a table, unfortunately out of reach for now.

“Look, I’m a reasonable man. If you don’t have cash I’ll take what you do have,” Paulie says, plucking the sack from Frank’s hand. He peeks inside. Disgusted, he turns the sack upside down and dumps its contents out. A dozen or so Chromebooks crash to the floor, screens shattering and chunks of plastic breaking off. 

“Fake trash computers?” Paulie roars. “You were somehow gonna turn these useless hunks of garbage into my money?”

The combination of the yelling and the crashing is too much for Dennis, who claps his hands against his ears. Distressed, Mac rushes over to the counter, but before he can do anything to help the movement catches Paulie’s eye.

“You there, Muscles,” he calls. Mac points at himself, quizzically.

“Frank’s the Muscle,” Charlie corrects.

“Yeah you. I’m gonna need your help lifting something.”

That something turns out to be the cash register, which he has Mac pry from the counter with a crowbar. When the Waitress’s boss comes in an hour later to open for the day, he's greeted by a destroyed shop, a blubbering employee, and a small host of miscreants who all want to tell him, in great detail, about the B&E they tried and failed to foil.

*** 

They wind up spending most of the day filing police reports, lobbying for the Waitress’s job, and debating whether or not they should hire her at Paddy’s since it’s their fault she got fired in the first place (they do, with the caveat that she be paid out of Dee’s wages), so in the end they aren’t able to edit _Santa’s New Years Resolution_ before the deadline. Instead they host a “Christmas in July” event the following month and screen it at the bar. The audience is just the cast and crew plus a few Paddy’s regulars, but with Dennis pouring endless shots of peppermint schnapps and Mac wearing his “Noel” muscle tee it still feels festive.

“Wow Artemis, your chemistry with Dennis is really amazing here,” Dee teases as a scene of Artemis telling Santa about her love of gator wrestling in the Florida swamps plays. “It’s wild that he picked Mandy over you.”

“Mmm. And my hands look so strong and masculine,” Artemis agrees, nodding at the screen. Sure enough, Mac’s hands had crept beyond the green screen and could now be seen at the bottom right of the shot. Dennis’s hands had also gravitated towards the center of the table, and although they weren’t touching, the two seemed to be reaching for each other.

“Don’t say that, Artemis. I think they actually look quite dainty and feminine,” the Waitress says.

Dee snorts. “Hey Mac, what was your mob nickname that one time?” she calls. Deep in conversation with Dennis behind the bar, he ignores her.

Dee can admit to herself that it’s an objectively terrible film with an illogical plot, but it has its charms. She especially relishes the scene where she’s managed to obtain the deed to Mandy’s coffee shop and is lording it over her, the Waitress pressed back against the desk in the office while Dee leans forward into her personal space. 

"That wasn't the worst thing I've ever done," the Waitress admits later as the credits roll. "I mean, I did lose my job, but making Dennis uncomfortable was fun. Let's do it again sometime."

"Only if I get to play the lead," Dee says.

"What if you both play leads?" Artemis suggests.

"Explain," says the Waitress. 

"Well I hear Hallmark is trying to make their movies more diverse. What if we gave them a wholesome lesbian Christmas movie next time?"

**Author's Note:**

> Can I make a New Year's Resolution for the Reynolds twins to sort their shit out in 2019? Are you allowed to make Resolutions for other (fictional) people? 
> 
> Sorry for the way this deteriorated towards the end! I was rushing to wrap it up and post before I headed to my parents’ house for Christmas, and I didn’t meet that deadline, so then I was rushing to finish it in between family stuff. I’ve gotten so much out of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and its fandom over the past few months, so this silly, shallow little romp was just my way of saying thanks. (Mac Finds His Pride was cable TV art, and that is all there is to say about that.) I hope you all have a healthy, happy, and safe holiday season!


End file.
